Prom 2034: A Moment in Time
by RayKay72
Summary: Nick and Jess chaperone their daughter's prom. Can Nick keep from ruining her night? Why was Schmidt kicked off the decorations committee? Why is Jess giving Coach that icy stare? Part of MayaLala's Prom Challenge. I do not own New Girl in any way, shape or form.


The sounds of Rhianna sorrowfully begging someone to stay drifting through the ballroom, down over twinkle lights and silver balloons. Nick clenched his fists and ducked a wayward streamer. _Waaaaay too close_, he thought, making a beeline toward one of the couples slowly swaying on the light wood of the dance floor.

"Where do you think you are going, Nick Miller?" a voice said evenly. He stopped abruptly as one of his wife's bright blue heels stepped into his path. Nick cringed slightly, and glanced up to see Jess. Dolled up in her matching bright blue dress, she tapped her foot impatiently, flaring the layers of silver underneath the skirt. "Well?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nick shrugged and tried to look casual, but a scowl remained on his lips. "I'm just _chaperoning_, Jess," he yanked on his black tie. That's why we're here. To…ya know…_chaper_." His eyes widened under her endless, blue stare. "What?" he demanded.

Jess propped her arms on her hips. "Yes, Nick," she hissed, leaning in close to his ear. "We are here to chaperone…EVERYONE…not just your daughter."

Nick glanced across the dance floor to see his teenage daughter in the arms of her date. It had been a shock, to say the least, when his little girl came out of her room earlier that evening. Swirling in layers of silken fabric in the dress she made with her mother, Sophia looked every inch the fairy princess she used to pretend to play. Her deep blue eyes – the mirror image of Jess' – sparkled with delight as she twirled in excitement. Sophie's thick brown hair – something she inherited from her father – was miraculously staying in place with a carefully aligned headband of small, silver leaves. A knot lodged itself in Nick's throat when he watched Jess and Sophie giggling in delight. Allowing his dread of the evening to wane, just for a moment, a smile ticked on his lips.

Then, of course, came the knock that brought her date to the door.

"I said, BACK OFF," a voice boomed from another corner of the ballroom. Nick sighed as the dancing crowd parted and a young man raced to the door. "That's right, buddy! Watch the hands!" Coach called after the boy.

It was Jess who helped Coach land his namesake job at the high school, where he helped guide the wrestling team as well as taught several health classes. Nick and Winston made it an annual goal to taunt him with serious-sounding questions when he tackled the chapter on sex ed. _"Shut up, you two!" _Coach would yell._ "Winston, you cannot get a woman pregnant just by sitting in a hot tub with her. And no, Nick, there is no medical cure for PMS. I looked it up!" _

Coach winked at Nick, then motioned toward Sophie. _I got this_, he seemed to say. Nick smiled slowly, but after three steps, Coach froze. Nick turned to see his wife shaking her head, her blue eyes sharpened to a crystal stare. If there was one thing Coach feared in this world, it was an angry Jessica Day Miller. He quickly looked at the floor, whistled loudly and slinked off to another part of the room.

Nick's sighed and his eyes narrowed. He surveyed the scene of his Sophie dancing with her date, _Fred,_ he thought with a sneer. Tossing his head toward the couple nervously shifting to the music, he growled, "That kid is dancing way too close to Sophie. And where the hell is her sweater?"

Jess rolled her eyes. As soon as Nick opened the door, Fred ceased to be the kid they had known since he was a scrawny 6-year-old, and morphed into The Guy Taking My Daughter To The Prom. It occurred to Nick that Sophie was dressing up _for_ _this guy_. Shooting a look back to his little girl, the silky dress she wore suddenly transformed in his eyes. Now instead of pretty princesses, Nick saw a top cut dangerously low and sides hugging too tightly to her waist and hips. _When in the hell did she gets hips?_ he thought. With barely a grumble of hello to Fred, Nick stormed over to Sophie and wrapped the matching champagne-colored sweater across her shoulders. "Gonna be cold tonight," he mumbled.

Following Nick's gaze onto the dance floor, Jess smiled. "It's too warm in here for a sweater, you growly papa bear." With a playful jab of her finger, she poked him toward their post at the drink table. "Sophie is fine. Come on, let me buy you a drink, sailor."

Hunching his shoulders, Nick jammed his hands into his pockets and reluctantly let his wife lead him back to the streamer-covered table. "She is not _fine_, Jess. She is 17," he insisted, scooting behind the table and lining up glasses to make his famous non-alcoholic cocktails. He knew it was the reason Sophie had consented to let them come tonight, the fruity drinks were a favorite of her friends. Nick jabbed a paper umbrella into a slice of strawberry. "This is prom. Do you know what happens at prom?" he hissed at Jess. "They are having it at a HOTEL. Do you know what happens at HOTELS, Jessica?"

Jess smiled and winked as she handed out drinks to two girls. "Um, people cut their hands with steak-knife scissors? Oh no, wait, that was just my prom," she laughed and looked over to see Nick's grimace. "Oh, lighten up, turtle face," she said. "It's bad enough you threatened Freddy."

Nick raised his hands in innocence. "I did NOT threaten him," he said, then picked up a small knife and began chopping oranges with a vengeance – _WHOMP! WHOMP! _"I merely mentioned that I used to be a bartender." _WHOMP! WHOMP! _"And bartenders know how to mix drinks." _WHOMP! WHOMP! _"And maybe add things like cyanide without anyone knowing," he mumbled quietly and dropped the mutilated oranges into the bowl.

Her eyes bulged to saucer-size. "Nick, that is awful! No wonder he won't come near the table."

Nick shrugged. The song changed and the soft embraces dissolved as couples began to jump and sway in unison to One Direction singing about a perfect scene. Nick looked up. "Why is this song so familiar?"

Jess laughed. "It's a retro night, Nick. They are playing music from 20 years ago." She shifted into her old-woman voice. "You know, back when everything was a nickel! Like the way you used to tip people."

He simply stared at her. "Retro? You know what that means, Jess? It means OLD." Nick waved the knife in a circle over his head. "This music is telling us we are _old_." He looked down at the table. "Where in the hell are the rest of the oranges?"

Jess peeked over his shoulder. "I think you slaughtered them," she giggled and brushed a small piece of orange off the arm of his jacket. "And who are you calling old? Speak for yourself, Miller. This girl still has moves," she bounced up and down wiggling her shoulders.

Unable to help himself, Nick's mouth turned in a slight grin. "I thought you promised not to embarrass our daughter tonight," he said.

Jess answered with a fake pout. "This would be a romantic place to dance, you know. A fun place to enjoy the moment."

The smile quickly faded from his lips. "This place looks like a unicorn was given a silver nitrate enema and exploded," he said.

"Well put, Nicholas," said a voice. Nick turned to see Schmidt and Cece walk over to the makeshift bar. "If they had listened to me, this would have been a tasteful, delicate and divine event instead of this sham display."

Cece rolled her eyes. "They kicked you off the decorations committee, Schmidt. You spent the entire budget on an ice sculpture."

Schmidt picked up a drink bathed in squashed orange. "That sculpture was ART," he declared. Wrinkling his nose at the drink, he slowly set it down again. "I repaid them their pittance," he sighed and waved his hand at the streamers above Nick's head. "And look what it bought them – toilet paper and tin foil."

Ignoring her husband, Cece leaned over and gave Jess a hug. "Hi babe. Sophie looks beautiful."

Jess smiled. "Aw, so does Jude," Jess nodded over to Cece and Schmidt's modelesque daughter in a form-fitting red dress, standing and looking bored with a similarly beautiful date, who wore the same expression. Jess bit her lip. "Is she, um, having fun?"

Cece shrugged. "Who knows? So far the only thing I've heard from her date is 'Whazup, Mz. S?' I don't have high hopes for the evening." She glanced over at Schmidt, who appeared to be organizing the drinks on the table by color and size of fruit. She sighed. "I guess the women in our family are attracted to adorable douchebags."

Schmidt beamed at his wife. "You still think I'm adorable, my Indian flower?" He held out a hand. "Shall we dance, my love, and show these sad, little children how it's done?" Cece smiled and let her husband lead her to the floor.

The song shifted again to something slower, something about a guy's love being insanity and his clarity. The swirling lights above the dance floor glimmered, and Nick caught a flash of soft light touch Jess' hair. She turned to him and winked, and went back to serving drinks. _Enjoy the moment_, she'd said. Like the song, it sounded familiar to Nick. And then he remembered….

There was almost a chill in the LA air the night Jess dragged Nick up to the rooftop of the old loft they shared with Winston and Schmidt. They had only been dating a few weeks, and were struggling to find any private time together not invaded by the normal chaos of the loft.

Tonight, it was Winston's latest nightmare when his nightlight went out. Nick and Jess calmed him down, assuring him that Bucky the Badger was not, in fact, under his bed. Leaving his room, they heard Schmidt on the phone with one of his lady loves, stalling to get out of deciding between them. Before he could spot them, Jess grabbed Nick's hand and they hurried quietly from the loft, and up to the roof.

"So are we hiding from our roommates now, Jess?" Nick laughed. Jess eased the door closed, a sly smile gracing her lips. With a dramatic sigh of relief, she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"I only want to dance with you," she whispered. Taking his hand, she whirled herself under his arm, then spun up against him.

He gave her a halted laugh with the words, "I don't dance, Jess."

She spun back out and did a slight curtsy. "Come on, Nick, it's easy." Jess placed her hands on his shoulders. "Just rock back and forth. You know, middle-school style," she said with a wink.

Nick rolled his eyes, but carefully rested his hands on her hips. He smiled as Jess began to sway. "I feel a little ridiculous here," he said.

Jess moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "That's only because you haven't figured out how to enjoy the moment, Miller." She led him in a small circle.

"Um, aren't I supposed to lead?" he asked.

Raising her head, he saw the twinkle in her fathomless blue eyes. "Okay. You lead, I follow."

Nick cleared his throat and started her turning slowly the other direction. "Oooooh," she cooed softly. "I see. This is much better." Nick raised his hands in defeat and started to step away, but Jess pulled him back. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding. I love when you lead, mister." She positioned his hands back on her hips. "Now shut up and enjoy the moment."

He rolled his eyes, but obeyed, slowly restarting the junior-high dance rhythm. Her head returned to his shoulder, and Nick felt his lips twitch into a grudging smile.

"Mmmmm, I always wondered what Ginger Rogers felt like dancing with Fred Astaire," she sighed. "They always just seemed to float on air when they danced. Now I have an idea."

Nick's shoulders shook with silent laughter. "I hate to break it to ya, but we are not exactly Fred and Ginger here." He pushed a strand of hair away from her cheek, feeling her soft skin against his fingers. "How do you do that?" he asked quietly. "See everything as more than it is?"

Jess shrugged in his arms. "I just see the potential – the potential for beauty and happiness and goodness. It's just how I see things."

Shaking his head slowly, Nick said, "Life's not like that, Jess." He gave a little laugh that came out sadder than he intended. "That's not how I see things."

Jess raised her head and met his gaze. "You see more than you think, Nick Miller." She placed a hand on his cheek. "I see the world like that, but you…you see us."

"Us?" Nick asked, his featured scrunched in confusion.

She nodded. "I think that makes you braver than I am." He started to laugh, but she gently pushed a slender finger to his lips. "I mean it, Nick. For you...for you to take a chance...it just means a lot. It means you see the potential of _us_. And, in a way, that means you see me like no one else ever has. If _you_ believe in us, then I like our odds."

At her words, Nick felt the breath rush out of him. He blinked hard and tried to swallow._ Brave? No one ever accused me of that before_, he thought. She smiled and returned her head to his shoulder, humming some Taylor Swift tune. He tightly shut his eyes. His heart raced, and Nick braced himself for the panic to rise in his chest. _Too soon,_ his thoughts taunted. _Too soon to be feeling like this about her. _He willed Jess not to feel his arms stiffen as he prepared for terror to take him, make him moonwalk out of there, away from her. He waited. And waited.

Nothing.

Slowly exhaling, Nick opened his eyes. _Where is it?_ he wondered. _Where is the panic? _The look Jess gave him a moment ago – the emotion swimming in those endless blue eyes of hers – should have blasted him off into the stratosphere of maladjustment by now. Any time a woman in his life talked about anything serious, Nick found a way to laugh it off, drink it away, deflect it, or just get the hell out of the room. But here he was, rocking slowly side to side like a friggin' 12-year-old, and he felt oddly calm. No, more than that, he felt _alive._

Nick took in the surreal experience of dancing in the moonlight with one of his best friends, a woman whom he also happened to care so damn much about that it practically hurt. Usually he would be screwing things up royally before he had the chance to fall harder. But with Jess, he felt grounded, _real. _He took a deep breath, the intoxicating smell of Jess – an odd combination of floral shampoo, cupcakes and scented markers – invading his senses. And it felt like home.

Here was beautiful Jessica, _his_ Jessica, in his arms. And Nick knew that no matter what happened or where he went in life, he would hold onto this one evening, this _moment_ in time. It belonged to him. And he prayed silently to whatever deity was out there that she was holding onto this moment as well.

"Yeah, Jess, I do," he answered softly. She leaned up from his shoulder, bestowing a radiant smile that twisted his insides and kicked his pulse into high gear. He stared into her eyes for a moment, without a trace of fear. Then he pulled her to him, capturing her lips with his own.

Now Nick stared at his wife, still breathtaking after years of marriage and a couple of kids. She still made him feel grounded, he realized, even though at this moment she was making two paper umbrellas dance with each other as she hummed along to the music.

Looking past her stance at the table, he suddenly knew tonight was more than just kids awkwardly stumbling around one another amid a sea of wilting corsages and strangling tuxedos. Nick saw through Jess' eyes, and envisioned a night for potential – for all those kids to have a moment in time. He looked at his beautiful daughter, laughing with her date. If she and _Fred_ could come close to what he and Jess shared on that rooftop, then they were pretty damn lucky.

Nick slid out from behind the table. "Care to dance, Mrs. Miller?" He held out his hand to Jess.

Her eyes sparkled with delight. "Why, I would love to, Mr. Miller."

He pulled her onto the dance floor, and realized it was the same Taylor Swift song she hummed that night on the roof, though now it was some guy singing about how his love was like a bunch of colors.

Nick winked at Schmidt and Cece, but they were frowning. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Schmidt pursed his lips. "Apparently, the dumbass who took my daughter to the prom is dancing with some hussy." Nick glanced over to see Jude shooting daggers at the guy who brought her. On the dance floor, said dumbass slid his hands around the back of another girl.

"I'm on it," said Nick, and signaled to Coach.

A moment later, Coach had the kid by his collar, and pulled him toward the door. "Not in my house, young man!" he announced. As he shuffled the kid past the dancing couples, Schmidt glared at him.

"D'ats 'whazup,' son!" Schmidt snapped. Cece rolled her eyes, but smiled.

The beat changed to an old tune by The Vaccines. Cece raised her arms and shimmied, while Schmidt did his best to control his sea-snake dance. Laughing, Jude joined her parents on the floor.

Jess turned those spell-binding blue eyes to Nick. "Want to give it a whirl, Miller? We can declare middle-school dance rules," she called over the loud music.

Nick pulled her close. "How about we say Nick and Jess rules, and make it up as we go?" He spun her once, Fred Astaire-style. She laughed and twirled back into her husband's arms.

**I feel bad that everyone is probably being uber-creative, and I just wrote another chapter of FourDee, but this one was tailor-made for the Miller fam (I'm still saving Jude for Walt). Thanks MayaLala and JC for the inspiration! And thanks to JessicaxNicholas for the overprotective dad idea! And yes, I had to put in nods to some of my favie Ness videos in here with the songs I mentioned: Stay, The Perfect Scene, Clarity, Only Wanna Dance With You, Red and, of course, The Vaccines' "I Always Knew" is what plays when Nick and Jess "uncall it" in the season 2 finale. **

**Can't wait to read all the other roomfriend stories!**


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